Oneshots in Halt's POV
by The Huntress of the Moon
Summary: Ranger's Apprentice is mostly in the "youngster's" POV; Will, Horace, and so on. What was Halt thinking during some instrumental moments in the series? A collection of one-shots from Halt's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first published fanfiction, so please help me by reviewing, about anything, so I can learn how to improve :) Basically, I was always curious about what Halt was thinking when different situations were occurring, so I decided to write those scenarios from his POV as I imagined them to be. **

**Disclaimer: The Ranger's Apprentice series, ideas, and characters all come from the wonderful Mr. John Flanagan. I only own Halt's thoughts and actions that were not explicitly described in the books. **

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Oneshot #1 - First Encounter

_What _was_ Halt doing in Master Chubb's kitchen, anyways? _

Halt was standing in Master Chubb's kitchen, eyeing some of the sweetcakes that were airing on the window ledge. Master Chubb, he knew, would be back in a few minutes. He would have to make his move quickly. But before he could move, he heard soft footsteps near the window, and scraping as nails and boots made contact near the wall. Some was climbing the pipe on the wall, Halt thought. A head appeared.

He froze, decades of training suppressing the natural instinct to dive for cover. Thankfully, he was still in the shadowy corner of the kitchen, where the light was uncertain and his cloak broke up his shape. The chances were that the person who came in wouldn't see him.

A boy climbed in the room, swinging artfully through the left side window, lifting his legs to make sure they didn't touch the sweetcakes that were airing on the right windowsill. Halt mused quietly in shock, making note of his appearance. _Will..._

For it was Will, the orphaned boy that Halt had taken to the Ward thirteen years earlier. What was he doing there? As he watched, curious, the boy glanced around furtively, his eyes passing over Halt without noticing him, then looked hungrily at the cakes.

The same cakes that Halt was after. Halt would have chuckled, but for the fact that he had not shown any outward emotion for almost several years now. Ever since Gilan, his former apprentice, had became a Ranger...

Will reached for the cakes, bagging them in a burlap sack. Halt let him take them. A plan was forming in his head, and he thought over it as the boy left, quietly climbing the drainpipe with the sweetcakes in the bag. Even though the boy had failed to notice him in the corner, Halt had to admire his skill. Gilan had shown the same skill, though it was admittedly in a more serious manner, by trying to track Halt without being noticed. The boy had failed, as Halt was used to being stalked by more dangerous foes than a fifteen-year-old boy.

Halt slipped out of the kitchen a few minutes later, using his cloak to blend in to the more shadowy areas of the corridor beyond. There was no sign of the boy. No doubt, thought Halt, he had some escape manner ready for the go. Master Chubb came hustling down the hall, heading for his kitchen.

Master Chubb entered his kitchen, muttering about the sweetcakes. Halt waited a few seconds, ready for the explosion.

"My _cakes_!" Master Chubb roared. "Someone stole my _sweetcakes!"_ Halt winced. The volume in which Chubb had bellowed was equivalent, if not louder than, Sir Rodney's parade ground voice.

Unfortunately, Master Chubb looked out the window in fury. Will chose that moment to walk underneath, licking the last of the frosting off his fingers. Equally unfortunately, the window was still open and Master Chubb was given an unobstructed view of the garden outside, the grass, and the boy.

Master Chubb stormed out of his kitchen swinging his ladle. Will, in turn, froze guiltily when he saw Master Chubb. Halt was already still as a statue, hidden in the shadows of the garden. Will turned pink in seeing this new factor that wasn't part of his plans.

A very large factor.

"Boy!" the factor roared. Red-faced and angry, Master Chubb didn't see Halt, huddled in the corner. Even if he wasn't distracted, Halt doubted that he would have noticed him. His survival - both in enemy campaigns and in trying not to be caught by a man so formidable as Master Chubb - depended on not being seen. Halt was by no means a coward. But even he didn't fancy being scolded by the Kitchenmaster. Or his wooden ladle, Master Chubb's symbol of office, for that matter. Master Chubb wielded that ladle like knights wielded morningstars, mace and chains, and battleaxes.

He almost felt sorry for the boy, then mentally shook himself. Young people, he thought, had a way of getting inside you. He must be getting old and sentimental.

"What are you doing here?" Master Chubb continued, shaking his ladle threateningly.

The boy retreated a pace, away from the deadly ladle that being brandished at him. Good choice, too, thought Halt.

"Er..." The boy turned beet-red.

"That's frosting on your fingers. Today, I was preparing sweetcakes. With frosting. Would you happen to know where those cakes are, boy?" Master Chubb questioned suspiciously, his eyes narrowing to glare at the unfortunate boy. "Did you happen to _eat_ them?"

And here was an important moment, Halt knew. The boy had shown that he was talented. He'd snuck in and out undetected - except by Halt, of course - and devoured those cakes quickly, though Halt wasn't sure if _that _was an admirable talent that was needed in Rangers. But was he honest?

"_Did you_?" Master Chubb bellowed, waving his ladle menacingly. The boy's eyes stayed riveted on it for a few moments, then reluctantly raised up to Chubb's. Halt saw reluctance there, but also a simple honesty.

Will hesitated. Halt couldn't help it - he leaned forward, still unconsciously keeping to the fringe of the shadows. This was an important moment.

"Yes, sir?" Will replied reluctantly. Halt shook his head. Youngsters, he sighed mentally. Always answering questions with questions. But the boy was honest. That was a good trait.

Chubb didn't seem to think so. He advanced, his ladle swinging in a fast arc. Startled, Will didn't even try to retreat.

Halt winced sympathetically at the resounding crack the ladle made on Will's head. Will winced too, rubbing his head ruefully. "Sorry, Master Chubb... I was just hungry..."

Master Chubb waved his hand dismissively. Thankfully, it was the hand without the wooden ladle, otherwise Will might have been knocked out with Chubb's hand-waving. "More work for me, now, lad. Just don't do it again!" he threatened, embellishing his threat with a fierce waggle of the ladle. Will took an involuntary step back.

"Y-Yes, sir! Sorry, Master Chubb!"

Master Chubb, confident that he had upheld his honor, waddled back to the kitchen. People were always hungry, he thought philosophically, and it was the cook's job to feed them. So cooks were always busy.

Halt watched the round cook head off the corner, then looked at Will. The boy looked at his hands - probably imagining the sweetcakes in them again, Halt thought. Then Will walked off. Halt watched him for a few minutes, then headed back to his cabin. Today was an interesting day, he thought. And Will would be an interesting apprentice, when he was ready two years later.

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**Hope you guys liked it :) Please, please review! I'll try to update with more one-shots every few days, depending on how busy I am and when I get an inspiration. Thanks! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! As promised, this is the second chapter, dealing with the boar hunt in The Ruins of Gorlan in Halt's POV. This one is more serious than the previous chapter, but I hope you guys like it all the same! As usual, please review! :)**

******Disclaimer: The Ranger's Apprentice series, ideas, and characters all come from the wonderful Mr. John Flanagan. I only own Halt's thoughts and actions that were not explicitly described in the books.**

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Oneshot #2 - Boar Hunt

_Because I never understood what took Halt so long to shoot the boar in the first place._

The death scream of the wild boar had finally died down. Halt reined in Abelard, glancing over briefly at the young knight who had made the kill, who was being congratulated by the other hunters. Although the rest of the hunters had abandoned their protective circle around the boar's lair after the kill, Halt urged Abelard into a slow trot away from the lair, searching for signs of any danger.

After a few minutes, he started to notice clumps of disturbed snow and torn earth, which his practiced eye could easily discern. Halt climbed down from the saddle to have a closer look. After examining it, he determined that it was a boar's tracks. However, something wasn't quite right. These tracks were set deeper and wider into the snow than the ones that he and Will had tracked earlier. He stood there, puzzling over it for a moment, before it dawned on him.

"There's another boar," he told Abelard. His horse snorted softly and jerked his head to the side, as if to say, _Took you long enough to figure out._

"Don't see you helping," Halt replied. Abelard snorted again, louder, prancing his feet. Halt frowned thoughtfully at the ground, signalling for Abelard to stay still, as to not damage the prints. As he followed the tracks on foot, he wondered, if there was another boar this close to the first's lair, then where was it?

Then, he heard Will shout, "Look out!" and realized, with a sinking heart, that he had left his apprentice in danger of a larger, more dangerous boar.

Halt ran back to Abelard, cursing silently to himself. What he thought had been Abelard jokingly interacting with him was probably the warning that Abelard had been trying to convey, about how near the boar was. He heard Will shout again, a high-pitched cry of agonized fear, as he clambered back into the saddle. _Damn, damn, damn_. He urged Abelard into a gallop back to the boar's lair. Halt could hear the shouts of other hunters, but also a high-pitched, inhuman scream of rage that he knew came from the boar.

By the time Halt reached the scene, he could still hear the charges of the boar, but couldn't see it - or Will. The animal was shrieking and crashing into trees, judging by the noises, but he couldn't see anything through the trees, and he couldn't maneuver around the knights that had just realized what was happening. They struggled to their feet, grabbing for their weapons and trying to help, while they were really only hindering the person who actually could help.

"No, Tug!" Will screamed, somewhere to Halt's left. Without being told to, Abelard wheeled around to that direction. "Tug! Get clear!" Halt could hear Will's desperate cry, and tried to get past the group of hunters that were blocking him.

"Move, you idiots," Halt commanded gruffly, nudging them out of the way. Finally, they stepped aside, realizing that Halt had the best chance of saving Will.

Out of the corner of his eye, Halt saw a flicker of movement. He turned, taking in multiple details at once. The boar was charging, with three arrows sticking out of its side. Halt could tell by the positioning that they were mere annoyances to the monster, not doing any substantial harm. He saw Horace, brandishing a boar spear, running to save Will. And Will... Halt finally saw him, kneeling in the snow, hopelessly holding his saxe knife in front of him.

In a blur of movement, he nocked and drew the bow, making sure to aim for just behind the left shoulder of the boar. Abelard was still running, but at a smoother pace, to give Halt a steadier viewpoint. As Halt released the arrow, he closed his eyes and thought, _If you're going to make one perfect shot in your life, Halt O'Carrick..._ He felt the arrow leave the bow, heard the deep thrum from the bowstring, and the hiss the arrow made in the air, and he knew that the shot was good.

When Halt opened his eyes, the boar was dead, and his apprentice was untouched. He reined Abelard in and jumped to the ground, pulling Will into his arms. The boy was shaking, but he could feel himself shaking as well. Halt noticed that Will was still clutching the saxe knife, and he gently pried it out of Will's tight grip.

"What on earth were you hoping to do with this?" he said softly. Will shook his head, speechless. Only when Tug nudged the boy with his muzzle did Will seem to calm down, his relieved shaking slowing down. Once he sensed that the boy had regained his composure, Halt stood and stepped back. Seeing Horace approach Will, gratitude and admiration written all over his serious face, Halt walked over to Abelard to give the two boys privacy, stroking his mane tenderly.

"_Merci_," he said gently. Abelard butted his arm lightly with his muzzle, as if saying, _Hey, what am I here for?_ The horse continued to look steadily at him, until he groaned softly. "Fine. You get an apple later." Whinnying affirmatively, Abelard shoved his arm again, harder, with a touch of smugness in his movements. Hearing cheers from the men behind them, Halt turned back around. His apprentice was looking at him, hoping for acknowledgement.

Halt felt pride swell up inside him at the boy's bravery, innocence, and humility. Meeting Will's eyes, he nodded once, knowing from the understanding in his apprentice's eyes that Will recognized the gesture, and what it meant. Halt turned away again, pretending to be busy at Abelard's saddle, before his emotions could overwhelm him.

Abelard snorted. _Just tell the boy that you're proud of him already._

Halt swung up on the saddle, patting Abelard's neck. "Oh, I will."

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**Hope you guys liked it! Don't forget to review; reviews are what make me more motivated to write more and post earlier! By the way, if there are any particular scenes that you guys want written in Halt's POV, feel free to PM me or write in a review (or both) and I'll do my best to post my attempt! Thanks for reading :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry about the wait between the last update and now, I was really busy over the weekend. But now, as requested by a guest reviewer called Ranger Robbin****, here is Part 1 of the Choosing! I know I said these would be one-shots, and they are, but the Choosing (from the actual ceremony to when Will realizes that he will be Halt's apprentice) is really long, so I'll be posting them as separate one-shots, with Part 2 (hopefully) coming tomorrow. Hope you guys like it :) As always, don't forget to review! :) :) :)**

**Disclaimer: John Flanagan owns the Ranger's Apprentice series, characters, and ideas. I only own the thoughts, words, and actions that were not not explicitly written in the books. **

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Oneshot #3 - The Choosing Part 1

_The day that Halt's life of silence and tranquility ended for good._

Today was the day of the Choosing, nearly two years after Halt had first made the decision to consider Will as his apprentice. That morning, Halt had sat at his table, sipping at a mug of coffee (well-honeyed) and trying to compose a suitable letter to give to Baron Arald concerning Will's apprenticeship. After five discarded attempts and as many cups of coffee, he finally wrote two simple sentences on a sheet of paper.

_The boy Will has the potential to be trained as a Ranger._

_I will accept him as my apprentice._

After deliberating for a few minutes, he exited the cabin and went to the stables, where Abelard was sleeping. Once the horse heard his master approaching, one eye opened, gazing blearily at the Ranger. _What do you want?_ he seemed to say.

"Your advice, however little it may be," the grizzled Ranger replied. Abelard's ears drooped, and he opened both eyes and cast a longing look at the barrel of apples in the corner. Halt sighed, reaching for an apple. Abelard perked up, raising his head a little in interest.

"Just... listen," Halt ordered, holding the apple in his hand as an enticement for attention as he read from the paper. When he was finished, he looked questioningly at Abelard. His horse's face showed no opinion of the words that Halt had painstakingly sweated over for the past hour, instead pointedly focused on the apple.

"You single-minded nag," Halt pronounced wearily, tossing Abelard the apple reluctantly. "There. What did you think of it?"

_The apple?_ Abelard crunched delicately into the fruit, swallowing it after two bites.

"No, the paper, you idiot," Halt said as he leaned against the stable wall and folded his arms.

Abelard shook his head and rose slowly to his feet. _I pity that poor boy if he accepts._

Halt rolled his eyes and stalked out of the stable. Behind him he could hear Abelard snorting in laughter.

Once he was ready to go, Halt saddled Abelard and began the ride to Castle Redmont. Abelard nickered softly, as if to say, _You're just going to give the paper to the boy?_

"No," Halt answered. "Will's an inquisitive boy. I'm going to give it to Arald but not show it to Will, and the boy will probably try to steal it to read later. It's a test." He frowned thoughtfully. "I'll probably give him a little bit of a scare when I catch him, though."

_You cruel, cruel man,_ Abelard sympathized with the boy.

"Mule," Halt returned pithily.

When they reached Castle Redmont, Halt made Abelard comfortable in the stables and made the climb, alone, to Baron Arald's office room, where the Choosing ceremony would take place. Once he was there, he stayed in the shadows, as was the Ranger way, observing the other Craftmasters.

His eyes were drawn first to the rather large figure of Master Chubb, red-faced as usual, who was swinging his wooden ladle absently. Good thing that he was standing in the back, Halt thought, otherwise that ladle might have bruised quite a few limbs.

Sir Rodney was consulting with Ulf, the burly Horsetrainer, as both of their Crafts required many apprentices. In the corner, Nigel, the Scribemaster, was talking in a low voice with Lady Pauline, an elegant Courier and head of the Diplomatic Office of Redmont..

A ghost of a smile touched Halt's face as he looked at Lady Pauline, remembering the childhood they had shared together, and their unspoken, but recognized, feelings for each other. He stood in the shadows, watching her admiringly, until his reverie was broken by the sound of a door swinging open, and a rapidly balding man came through the door.

"Craftmasters!" he thundered, causing Nigel to wince slightly. "The Baron is ready now." It was Martin, Halt thought, Baron Arald's overzealous, but loyal, secretary.

Sir Rodney went first, with the others trailing behind. Halt, as was customary, entered through a side door by himself, as to not be as conspicuous. As he stood silently in the grand room, he noticed Baron Arald by his desk, and Will, standing last in line, eyes downcast.

"The Craftmasters are assembled, sir!" Martin bellowed. To Halt used to days of complete silence, Martin was an extremely loud creature.

Halt raised his eyebrows and caught the eye of Baron Arald, who merely rolled his eyes.

"So I see," Baron Arald said, more to himself than to Martin. Then, he turned towards the Craftmasters. "Good morning, Lady Pauline. Good morning, gentlmen."

The Craftmasters murmured their answers, eyes on the to-be apprentices.

"Perhaps we might proceed?" the Baron said to Martin.

Martin nodded, shuffled through a pile of papers, and marched energetically towards the would-be apprentices. "Right, the Baron's waiting! The Baron's waiting! Who's first?" Halt looked at Will, who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other in anxiety. To his surprise, Will suddenly raised his eyes from the floor, noticing Halt for the first time. Instead of looking away, as most typical villagers would, he stared back. Halt did not relinquish his gaze, until Martin began talking - no, shouting - again. He could still feel Will's eyes on him, but decided to ignore him and listen to the secretary echo himself.

"Now then, who's first? Who's first?"

"Why don't we take the first in line?" Arald offered, sighing loudly.

"Of course, my lord," Martin nodded, "Of course. First in line, step forward and face the Baron."

Horace, at the front of the line, paused for a moment before stepping forward.

"Name?" the Baron asked.

"Horace Altman, sir - my lord."

"And do you have a preference, Horace?"

Horace didn't even hesitate before he replied, "Battleschool, sir!" Baron Arald nodded and looked at Rodney questioningly.

"Battlemaster?" the Baron asked.

Rodney stepped forward, assessing Horace as he moved around him. As the boy turned his head to keep up with him, Rodney commanded, "Still," and Horace stopped moving. "Looks strong enough, my lord," Rodney said, "and I can always use new trainees. You ride, Horace Altman?"

Halt noticed the flicker of uncertainty that appeared on Horace's face. Interesting, he thought. While observing the wards before, Horace had always been a little too self-assured and arrogant.

"Well...no, sir," Horace replied reluctantly. "I..."

Rodney interrupted, "No matter. That can be taught. Very well, my lord," he turned to Baron Arald, "I'll take him for Battleschool - subject to the usual three-month probationary period."

Noting the delight on Horace's face, Halt made a mental note in his head: _Horace - bash-and-whacker_.

By then, Martin had stepped forward and was calling loudly, "Who's next then?" Halt stifled the urge to say 'The next in line, presumably.'

"Alyss Mainwaring, my lord," a young blonde girl - Alyss - said softly but firmly, looking like a younger version of Lady Pauline. Halt looked between the two women; both tall, blonde, elegant, and composed, and nodded in approval of Alyss' choice to join the Diplomatic Service, and of Lady Pauline's acceptance. Glancing back at Will, he noticed that the boy was smiling broadly at his friend's success, and filed that information away as well.

"Right!" Martin pointed at a nervous boy that was next in line, "You're next! Address the Baron."

Halt watched idly as the poor boy's mouth opened and closed, speechless for a moment in stage fright. Finally, the boy, G-George Carter, managed to stutter his request out, and Halt winced in preparation as Martin drew in breath, ready to reprimand the hapless boy. To his relief, Baron Arald interrupted, saying, "Very well, Martin, let it go." Looking a trifle injured at the interruption, Martin retreated.

Nigel stepped forward, studying the boy. After a few minutes of - pointless in Halt's taciturn point of view - banter, George Carter was accepted into Scribeschool.

Next was a cheerful, comely blonde girl, whose bright vivaciousness made up for her slight roundness. "Master Chubb, sir!" she requested, unprompted. After multiple attempts on the parts of Martin and Baron Arald, the irrepressible girl finally won her desired apprenticeship with Master Chubb, even using her chubbiness as a point of persuasion. Her Chubbiness, Halt thought, enjoying his mental play on words. But now he focused on Will, the last in line, who was whispering, "Will, sir. My name is Will."

"Will? Will who?" Martin dug through the sheets of paper in his arms, trying to find more information about the boy in front of him. "What's your family name, boy?"

Will looked stricken in embarrassment and mortification. "I... don't have..."

"Will is a special case, Martin," Baron Arald stepped in, smiling kindly at Will. "What schol did you wish to apply for, Will?"

He'll try for Battleschool_, _Halt guessed.

"Battleschool, please, my lord," Will confirmed Halt's guess, his knees shaking a little.

"Battleschool, Will?" The Baron frowned. "You don't think you're... a little on the small side?"

"I haven't had my growing spurt yet, sir. Everyone says that." Halt looked down at himself, thinking that he hadn't had his yet, either

"Rodney?" the Baron asked.

"I'm afraid he's too small my lord," Rodney said slowly.

"I'm stronger than I look, sir," Will entreated.

The Baron looked concerned. "Any second choice, Will?"

After a few moments of silence, the boy said, "Horseschool, sir?" Halt shook his head, not at the choice but at the wording. Youngsters, always answering questions with questions, he griped silently.

"I need apprentices, my lord, but this one's too small," Ulf replied immediately. "He'd never control one of my battlehorses. They'd stomp him into the ground as soon as look at him."

Halt could see the tears of desperation that clung to Will's eyes as he forced himself to not cry.

"What skills do you have, Will?" Baron Arald asked.

"I'm a good climber, sir," Will responded. Immediately, Chubb glared at him and clutched his wooden ladle harder.

"He can climb, all right. I remember when he climbed up a drainpipe into my kitchen and stole a tray of sweetcakes that were cooling on the windowsill." Halt's mind flickered back to that memory, and breathed a silent thank-you that Chubb had not realized that he was there as well.

Will's jaws dropped as the Scribemaster continued in the same heated vein, saying, "And just this last spring he climbed up to our third-floor study and turned too rabbits loose during one of our legal debates." Halt's eyes widened fractionally; _this_ he had not been aware of. "Most disruptive. Absolutely!" Nigel declared.

"Rabbits, you say, Scribemaster?" the Baron said, fighting to keep his voice serious, and Nigel nodded in agreement.

"A male and a female rabbit, my lord, if you take my meaning? Most disruptive indeed!"

Halt noticed Pauline place her hand in front of her mouth elegantly. Anyone else would have thought she was politely concealing a yawn, but Halt noticed the way that her eyes twinkled when she smiled, and when she lowered her hand, the corners of her mouth were still tilted upwards.

"Well, yes. We all know how rabbits are," the Baron said graciously, trying to get back on topic.

"And," Nigel pressed, "as I said, my lord, it was _spring._"

Pauline coughed.

"I think we get the picture, Scribemaster," Baron Arald said with finality, turning back to Will. "Is there any one of you who could use this boy?"

Halt knew that now was the time to speak up. "There is something you should know about this boy, my lord," he said softly as he stepped forward and handed Arald the sheet of paper that he had shown Abelard.

"You're sure of this, Halt?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Indeed, my lord." Halt said shortly.

"I'll have to think of this overnight," the Baron said, drumming his fingers on the desktop absently. Nodding, Halt stepped back into the shadows, noting the curiosity that crossed Will's face.

"Congratulations to those who were selected here today," the Baron was saying. "It's a big day for all of you, so you're free to have the rest of the day off and enjoy yourselves. The kitchens will provide a banquet for you in your quarters and for the rest of the day you have free run of the castle and the village. Tomorrow, you'll report to your new Craftmasters first thing in the morning. And if you'll take a tip from me, you'll make sure you're on time." Turning to Will, he continued sympathetically, "Will, I'll let you know tomorrow what I've decided for you. Thank you, everyone," he concluded, leaving through the door behind his desk.

Good, Halt thought as he stood behind the Baron's chair. If Arald promised information tomorrow, he was sure that Will would be too impatient to wait, and would make his move tonight. The other Craftmasters, and the new apprentices, filed out of the room, until only Halt and Will were left. The boy looked up and met his eyes, shivered, and left the room hastily.

Halt went to find Baron Arald, needing to discuss his plan with him, to set things in action.

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**Part 2 will be out tomorrow, hopefully, so please review XP Besides, reviews make me very happy, and if I'm happy, I update more often. :) Help me reach my goal of 100 reviews for a story, please! It would make my day :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: OMG guys I'm so sorry about not updating for so long. School just ended today, so I'll finally be able to update again! Yay! I just want to thank all of you wonderful, amazing, awesome readers and reviewers for putting up with such a terrible wait. You guys all rock! As a present for you guys, I'm going to accept the next ten ideas that I receive in the reviews, and instead of just finishing this story after 5 one-shots or so, I'll do the suggested ideas at the same time as the ones I have scheduled, which ultimately means more chapters and faster updates. The only rules are: if you previously already suggested something, don't worry, that's on my schedule, and one reviewer can suggest a maximum of 2 ideas. So hopefully that will make you all feel better :DD**

**Also, I was in a huge rush to get this one published early just for you guys, so I turned to one of my friends, whose username is jokingly called **The Huntress of the Sun**, to help me proofread and edit this chapter. So because she was being awesome, you guys get this chapter tonight instead of sometime tomorow! This chapter is part 2 of the Choosing, from when Halt and Baron Arald discuss whether Will will (hehe Will will) try to steal the paper, to when Halt is informed that Will accepted the apprenticeship offer. I hope you enjoy, guys! **

**By the way, thanks to **Ranger indecisive** for catching a typo; I fixed it :) (sorry about this super long authors note)**

******Disclaimer: The Ranger's Apprentice series, ideas, and characters all come from the wonderful Mr. John Flanagan. I only own Halt's thoughts and actions that were not explicitly described in the books.**

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Oneshot #3 Continued - The Choosing Part 2

_Poor Halt. Poor Will._

"So what do you think he'll do, Halt?" Baron Arald questioned, absently turning the slip of paper over and over in his hand.

"The boy will attempt to retrieve that paper somehow to read what's written inside, my lord." Halt answered confidently, having no doubt that Will would prove him right.

"Steal it, you say?"

Halt grunted, not seeing the point of answering such a mundane question. Baron Arald stroked his beard thoughtfully, silent. Halt, realizing the Baron doubted him, asked, "Don't you think the boy will try to steal it?"

"Well, why are you so sure that young Will is going to try to get this paper?"

Halt frowned mentally. It would seem that young people were not the only ones to answer questions with questions. Perhaps it was a bad habit that, if not corrected early, advanced into adulthood. Suddenly, he was struck with the dismaying thought of an older Will, still plaguing the innocent men of the Ranger Corps by answering questions with questions. Horrified, Halt promised to himself then and there that he would endeavor to correct Will early on, utilizing whatever methods necessary.

After making that vow, Halt realized that Baron Arald had been waiting - somewhat patiently - for him to answer. "He's inquisitive, my lord. Always curious about every little thing." He remembered watching the boy play with the other wards for brief periods of time occasionally, in which the little Will, toddling around on unsteady, but eager, feet, would always be the first one to inspect something new, the first to ask questions on anything and everything that popped up in his mind.

"And you're sure he'll make a good Ranger, should he accept?" Baron Arald crossed the room to the window and pulled the heavy cloth down over it, blocking the wind from entering his room.

"Along with being inquisitive, he's agile, and quick on his feet, and has more between his ears than the average lot, my lord. With some training, he has all of the traits that a Ranger should have. And he's talented." Talented at stealing cakes, Halt thought dryly. But still talented.

Baron Arald nodded contemplatively, now seated back in his chair. "I understand why you'd think he'll try to steal it. I'd like to see how he plans to go about it. Do you have any ideas, Halt?"

As a Ranger, Halt had already analyzed multiple methods of entry that Will could use, so he replied simply, "My lord, I believe that he'll just climb your tower."

"My tower?" the Baron repeated, shocked. "This tower?" He gestured vaguely at the large room, confused.

"Where else would he think you would put the paper, my lord?"

Baron Arald was silent for a moment. Then he sputtered, "But that's dangerous! The boy could fall, all on account of a slip of paper and his curiosity. I ought to inform the sentries to discreetly let him pass -"

"No, my lord," Halt interrupted. "That wouldn't be the best option to take, nor will it be necessary."

"But once my sentries discover him trying to break in, there'll be a huge commotion! Surely, Halt, it's best to just let them know not to raise the warning when they see him."

Halt allowed himself a tight little smile. "First they'll have to see him, my lord, and you'll find that it won't be such an easy feat."

The Baron blinked. "But how will he manage to get from the wards' rooms to mine without being caught?"

Halt strode to the window and pulled the cloth up, gesturing for the Baron to look out. "Do you see those trees in the castle yard, my lord?"

"Yes, I do."

"My lord, when midnight comes - that's when he'll try to come - those trees will be illuminated by the torches that surround the yard, therefore casting shadows on the ground. Not only will the light create shadows, it'll place the guards, already relaxed and sleepy, into a situation where the light is uncertain. The boy will use the shadows to move, undetected, to the edge of this tower, where he'll start to climb."

"But the trees' shadows surely can't block his movement," Baron Arald protested. Halt shook his head.

"There is a wind - you felt it yourself, earlier, my lord, and it will still be here tonight. The wind will cause the trees to move, a movement which the boy can mimic while in the shadows to reach the tower."

"And - and the sentries?"

"They won't see a thing, my lord." Not to mention that the sentries were hardly competent, Halt thought. The men had grown complacent over the years. They would see only what they expected to see - an empty castle yard.

The Baron nodded, convinced. "And now we wait," he said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together.

Halt fixed him with an unblinking stare. "And now I wait," he said. "You can't stay in this room. I'll need to startle him, and if you're here, then the element of surprise will be gone."

Baron Arald nodded grudgingly. He gathered up a stack of papers and stood, before saying, a trifle ruefully, "I wish I could see the poor boy's reaction when you catch him. How do you think he'll react, Halt?"

"I think the boy will be honest and accept the consequences," Halt said. The Baron pursed his lips as he considered it.

"We'll see," he answered.

Halt nodded respectfully as the Baron left his office with the single slip of paper arranged invitingly on his desk. _And now I wait._

At midnight, Halt arranged himself in the shadows by the desk, where he had a good vantage point from which he could see entire room. Suddenly, he heard a slight scraping noise that stood out from the usual sounds that he had already accustomed himself to in the hours that he had been alone in the room, wrapped in his cloak. Two hands appeared over the stone window ledge, and then a body.

Will swung inside the room lightly, grinning slightly as he cast a once-over glance at the room. Satisfied that he thought it was empty, he walked to the desk that he had stood before earlier that day, closer to Halt. He reached a hand out.

Just as he touched the paper, Halt seized the boy's wrist, enclosing it in an iron-hard grip. The boy shouted, terrified, and as he looked up and recognized who held him. He was trembling slightly, and looking around desperately for a solution.

"Thought you might try something like this," Halt said grimly, wanting to see what the boy would say to respond. Instead, the boy was silent, only lowering his head and refusing to meet his eyes. "Do you have anything to say?" Halt asked.

The boy only shook his head.

"Well, let's see what the Baron thinks about this," suggested Halt. That raised a reaction from the boy.

"Please, Halt!" The Ranger realized that Will had finally looked up. "Not..." For a moment, Halt thought that the boy was going to beg for him not to tell the Baron, but the boy stopped, recognizing his fate and determined to meet it.

Halt suddenly remembered the boy's father. Daniel had also known the consequences of his actions, and had still chosen to save him. And now, Will was accepting the consequences as well.

"What?" Halt demanded.

The boy shook his head. "Nothing," he said meekly.

Halt led the boy out of the room, still grasping his wrist tightly and holding the slip of paper in his other hand. As he strode up the stairs, his hapless captive in tow, the sentries at the head of the stairs looked up, surprised. They were about to ask about the situation, but Halt silenced them with a grim scowl - in other words, his normal face - and a quick hand gesture. In response, they silently opened the doors to Arald's apartment.

Halt took in the slight confusion on the boy's face as he took in the brightly lit room, but turned to the Baron, who looked up from a report he was reading. "So you were right." Halt nodded, again noticing the boy's confusion at the Baron's words.

"Just as I said, my lord," Halt said. "Came across the castle yard like a shadow. Dodged the sentry as if he wasn't there and came up the tower wall like a spider."

"He climbed the tower, you say?" the Baron said, surprised. Halt realized that the Baron had not been expecting Will's endeavors to climb his tower to be successful.

"No rope. No ladder, my lord. Climbed it as easily as you get on your horse in the morning."

And then he also realized that, given his earlier prediction to the Baron that Will would climb the tower, that the Baron had never expected him to be right. A doubt that the Baron would undoubtedly regret.

"Easier, in fact," Halt added smartly.

Arald frowned, and Halt inwardly chalked up a point for himself. Will cast a betrayed look at Halt, not appreciating Halt's deliberate remark and the effect it might have on the outcome of his predicament.

"Well now," the Baron said, looking at Will. "This is a serious matter."

The boy was silent, unconsciously shifting on his feet from anxiety.

"So, what shall we do with you, young Will?" Arald continued. He stood and started to pace around the room. Suddenly, he stopped pacing and stroked his beard meditatively. "Tell me, young Will, what would you do in my place? What would you do with a boy who broke into your office in the middle of the night and tried to steal an important document?"

"I wasn't stealing, my lord!" Will denied shrilly. At the Baron's skeptical look, he explained weakly, "I just... wanted to see it, that's all."

"Perhaps so, but you haven't answered my question." Halt noticed idly that Arald was raising one eyebrow, a trait that the Baron had no doubt picked up from him. "What would you do in my stead?"

Will lowered his head and was silent for a few moments. Halt looked at him consideringly, wondering if the boy would beg for mercy, or lie, or tell the truth.

"My lord," Will said falteringly, before stopping.

"Yes?" the Baron prompted.

The boy took a deep breath, steeled himself, and continued, "My lord, I don't know what I'd do in your place. I do know there is no excuse for my actions and I will accept whatever punishment you decide."

Halt was impressed, despite his intentions to be impassive. He exchanged a meaningful glance with the Baron, as if to say, I told you so. The Baron ignored Halt's triumphant look and said, "Any suggestions, Halt?"

Making sure his face and voice were as imperturbable as always, Halt replied, "Perhaps we should show him the paper he was so keen to see, my lord." He pulled the slip of paper out of his sleeve.

Arald smiled. "Not a bad idea. I suppose, in a way, it does spell out his punishment, doesn't it?"

Halt's scowl deepened. Apparently the Baron now thought their score was even. But Halt would give him no such satisfaction that easily.

"If you say so, my lord," he responded levelly.

The Baron waved his hand. "Take a joke, Halt! Take a joke!" He gestured at the boy, who was looking uncertainly back and forth between them. "Well, go on and show him the paper."

Halt strode over to the boy and gave Will the paper, noticing the slight tremor in the boy's hands as he grasped the paper. The boy unfolded the paper and read the words that Halt had painstakingly written in there. Halt watched as the boy read the words again. And again. And again.

Finally, Will looked up. He was still silent. Halt was beginning to feel uncomfortable, for some reason - silence had never bothered him before, so why should this silence bother him now? It was the uncertainty, he thought. He hated uncertainty, and he certainly was uncertain of Will's reaction now.

"Well, what do you say, Will?" the Baron urged.

Again, another agonizing silence before the answer. "Thank you, sir - my lord," Will said slowly, looking lost.

Arald sat down and gestured at Halt, indicating that he should leave. "Perhaps you might give us a few moments alone, Halt? I'd like to have a word with Will in private."

Halt bowed and replied, "Certainly, my lord," before moving out the door silently. The sentries outside, startled at his sudden appearance, jumped to attention before realizing that it wasn't their Baron. Then they jumped again when they realized it was him. Ignoring them, Halt faded back into the shadows to wait for the verdict.

After what seemed to him like an eternity - Halt, a Ranger who was used to waiting for long periods of time on missions - the boy slipped out of the door, white-faced and quiet. The boy looked around, then descended the stairs.

Halt, unable to restrain himself any longer, entered Arald's room again.

"So?" he questioned, impatient.

The Baron smiled. "So," he said meaningfully, "Congratulations, Halt. You have another apprentice." His grin widened. "Please try not to terrify that poor boy too much, will you?"

"No promises," Halt said, leaving the room.

* * *

**Hope you guys liked it! Next chapter will come out tomorrow, and it might be next chapterS if I get ideas tonight! Please read and review, even if you don't have any suggestions. Thanks! :D**


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